Poetry 5

My fifth poem is about a man falling apart by a woman's appearance. He sees her as an aphrodisiac and finds her as the overwhelming source of female beauty.

Aphrodite

Blithe was not a human being at all,

she was the cheating, glaring snake;

drove men insane with her alluring call.

She was the lotus that sat on the lake.

Blithe was the mother of sexual tension;

she knew love like her own slim figure.

She even made the sun turn crimson.

If a man was to die, she'd be his killer

Her hair fell down, right up to her breast.

Her eyes were blue as the summer sky.

Her face alone would lay a man to rest.

Her legs would make a grown man cry.

Skin smooth as silk, oh my God Blithe,

it would be wise that you become my wife!

Hatiah Begum
1997-